


The Taint of Buried Relic

by Infinite_Volume



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: Anthro pokemon, Anthropomorphic, Broken Condoms, Condom Filling, Condoms, Consent, Corruption, Cum Inflation, Dilation, F/M, Floating - Freeform, Ghosts, Hand Job, Large Balls, Large Cock, Orgy, Pokemon, Rough Sex, STD, STDs, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sneasel - Freeform, Warm, cumflation, excessive cum, gaping, hyper, hyper balls, hyper cock, hyper cum, large hand, machamp - Freeform, polteageist, sexy virus, sharpedo, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinite_Volume/pseuds/Infinite_Volume
Summary: A brave Pokémon makes journey with her partner into a Mystery Dungeon that has purportedly turned into a nexus for the spread of a strange disease that causes infected to develop dangerously high libido and, in extreme cases, can cause drastic physiological changes. If the source of the infection in this area can be found and handled safely, infection rates may decrease. If the explorers that enter this dungeon don't return successful, they risk becoming tainted themselves - losing control of their inhibitions and contributing to the spread of the plague that is bringing the Pokémon world to its knees.
Kudos: 31





	1. Mist Continent

**Author's Note:**

> This is my half of an art-trade with my friend Nicoffee (@Nicoffee), with whom I've collaborated before. Check him out - he does game development and erotic art.
> 
> The first chapter of this work sets the stage and explains the setting for the second, in which all of the erotic action occurs. I hope you enjoy reading it!

At the Exploration Team headquarters, a center for adventurers who seek to unlock the mysteries of the Pokémon world by probing its most mysterious corners, a group of veteran and rookie members crowd the bulletin boards looking for jobs. Some of the team's 'fresh meat' shake in their boots as they take jobs that amount to little more than a field trip out to their backyards to find an uncommon berry, and the more experienced agents engage in light conversation as they withdraw supplies for multi-week expeditions out to newly-discovered continents. Just within the jobs room of the headquarters, there's a lot of diversity of experience and attitude. It was still early in the afternoon - a time when the hollowed-out tree was packed fullest, so that the morning's job postings could be divided up amongst all of the 2 to 4 person groups that went out under the greater name of the Exploration Team.

Well after most of the attractive high-level jobs had been taken, a yawning Pokémon floated leisurely through the front entrance. She rubbed her eyes with a spectral, white hand – a ghostly extension of her body greater in size than her entire torso. Her cream hair flowed back like milk spilling from an overfilled cup, which contrasted against her burnt-orange skin. She was tall and slender – humanlike in shape, the same way nearly all Pokémon are in this particular world. She was a polteageist, but not one of the sort one could find in the Galar region of a different world. Unlike those polteageist, which were spirits that inhabited the cracked remains of ancient tea sets, this particular polteageist was one of a subspecies that had taken more of a liking to coffee than to tea. In another world, they would have been jovial little ghosts that tipped the black plastic caps on the coffee cups which they possessed. Here, in this world, this polteageist explorer wore a tight-fitting tube skirt of a beige hue reminiscent of the disposable cardboard cups her species haunted. Her ample cleavage was left on display, but held securely in place by the curve-hugging fit of her clothes. They were perhaps even more pronounced than they would be on any other Pokémon with similar proportions in similar dress, due to her lack of arms that could obscure their shape in profile. Such a lack was hardly a disability for her, though. She made due with the one enormous, ghostly hand that followed her everywhere, like all members of her species.

“Java, please come to Flora’s office.” A tired voice said over the headquarter’s PA system. “You’ve been appointed for a special assignment. Java – to Flora’s office for briefing.”

“Aaaah…” Java sighed. “Well, at least the hard work of picking a job has apparently been done for me. Hopefully the boss has a fun one lined up.”

Without skipping a beat, Java shifted the direction of her lackadaisical floating from the bulletin board to the administrative offices, where the Exploration Team higher-ups handled emergency calls and organized long, complex and dangerous missions. She didn’t have anything against these sorts of jobs – in fact, they were usually quite fun – but Jana wondered what kind of assignment the leader of the entire Exploration Team could want her for. It wasn’t often that she’d be given orders directly from Flora.

“Java, there you are! I’ve been here waiting for you in this hallway for like an hour!” A crude and punkish voice scolded the ghost-type as she approached the office. Java’s exploration partner, a sharpedo gal named Scala, had been nursing restless legs on a cheap stool outside Flora’s office since she came in today. They’d told her of her 2-woman group’s special assignment the second stomped in to scout out jobs before Java came in late as ever, but they refused to tell her the details until they were both assembled for a briefing.

“You know, normally your laziness ain’t a problem because it gives me time to pick the perfect job, but this time it only gave me a sore ass.” Scala barked at Java.

“It’s not laziness,” Java smugly dismissed. “If you’ve got the energy to do all the thinking early in the morning and pick our jobs, what’s the point in me being there too? I’m not gonna step on your toes if you wanna make my life a little easier every day.”

This kind of banter between the two was all too common at Exploration HQ. Scala would make some sort of remark in her hotheaded way, and Java would brush it off, irritating Scala even more. Sometimes Java would even seek out annoying Scala on purpose. The polteagesit thought it was cute to watch her battle-scarred sharpedo friend get all worked up. That’s just the dynamic of Team Wired. True to Scala’s intense personality, her role in the team was very much that of the “muscle girl.” Her arms and legs were lean, but with well-defined muscles that rippled subtly underneath her rough, navy skin. Despite its roughness, it seemed to glisten with a perpetual dampness that only a water-type could truly feel comfortable in their whole life. Her clothes were purposefully slashed and frayed at the ends, covering little more than her thighs and her chest, leaving her midriff bare. Scala always looked ready to jump into water at a moment’s notice, or to dash up to a threat and neutralize it with a slash or bite. All this isn’t to say Java couldn’t hold her own, should push come to shove, but Scala was built for conflict. Java always felt safe with Scala around. Underneath the adversarial presentation of their relationship, the two of them really were friends with an appreciation of what the other brought to the table. Without Java’s keen eye and level head, Scala might rush headfirst into something dangerous that she can’t just overcome by beating to a pulp.

“Scala, is Java finally here?” The Exploration Team’s director asked from her office, having heard the bickering from beyond the door.

“I’m here,” Java replied.

“Please come in, you two. I’ve got a special job to discuss with you.” Her voice was very patient – completely opposite in tone to the petty fighting that Team Wired were just embroiled in.

Java and Scala put their little argument off to the side, entering into their leader’s space for a mission briefing.

“So good to see you again, Java.” Flora smiled at the polteageist. The blue-flowered florges’s smile every bit was as luminous as Java had remembered it being.

Flora radiated a kind, motherly energy. Some might see her disposition as unfitting of a Pokémon in a position so high and important as hers – that the leader of the Exploration Team should be harder and more demanding – but she took quite naturally to her role as leader of so many well-meaning adventurers. Flora looked at all of her little explorers like her own children, and she fostered their growth and potential to the best of her ability. She hated seeing her children suffer, whether they be children under her direct hierarchical demand, or the many “children” she had all over the Pokémon world that she had yet to even meet. As such, she saw bringing an end to the strange new disease that had recently started to plague this world as her ultimate calling. In pursuit of that calling, Flora needed to discuss this special meeting with one of her most accomplished teams.

“What do you know about ‘Taint,’ girls?”

Scala, eager to flex whatever knowledge she had, jumped at the chance to answer.

"It's a disease that's making Pokémon horny, ain't it?"

"Pfft…" Java stifled a laugh.

Scala bit back:

"What the fuck are you chuckling at, you caffeinated cunt?"

"Well, that seems pretty reductive, don't you think? I thought that with how eager you were to answer, you'd have a more complete picture than just: disease make dick hard. This thing’s been spreading for months - do you even read the news?"

"Oh, well excuse me, professor! I'm so primitive - nowhere near as enlightened as you, my master. I'm just a wild animal then, huh? Guess I couldn't be held accountable if I crunched down on your head!

"ENOUGH!" Flora's voice boomed. It shook Java and Scala to their core, silencing them. Pokémon all throughout the Explorer Team base must have heard it, too. Everyone felt Flora's anger.

Team Wired skunk into their chairs, trying to make themselves as small and as passive as possible. Flora was terrifying when she was brought to anger. Instead of exploding and stomping around like a brute, Flora expressed herself much more ominously. After her initial call of "enough," she went back to her sweet and motherly smile; except, now it was different. This smile felt fake, like a mask. A powerful, oppressive aura flared around Flora - invisible, but very, very present. It told her two subordinates everything they needed to know.

Scala. Control your temper.

Java. End your immature teasing.

Do not make me ask again.

"So," Flora went on, appearing as cheerful as ever while Java and Scala still reeled from the threatening atmosphere in the office. "I may as well give the both of you a refresher on what we know about Taint so far. I'm sure both of you would benefit from a little review, Java."

Java deserved that callout, she conceded.

"First appearing here, on our native Mist Continent, Taint has been a major concern for the Exploration Team ever since its initial discovery and diagnosis in Pokémon. It doesn’t just cause an increase in sexual appetite, Scala – tainted Pokémon undergo deep changes, both physically and mentally. All Pokémon with taint have shown a degeneration in their capacity for restraint, leading to increased aggression. In its advance stages, Taint causes tissue and skeletal growth. This would be especially important for you to note too, Scala. You can’t just expect to be able to fight your way through a horde of Tainted Pokémon. They’re stronger than the ruffians you normally deal with.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Scala chimed dismissively.

“I’m serious, girls. With cases on the rise, you’ll need to watch your backs more closely. There’s no telling just how easily you could get overpowered, and the last thing I want is for you to get infected yourselves.”

“We’ll do our best to stay out of harm’s way, Grand Mistress” Java reassured. “So what exactly is it that you’re asking us to do?”

Flora fell silent for a few short moments, building up the courage to say what she needed to say.

“It pains me to admit it, but it seems like Taint has begun to spread to another continent…”

Java was surprised – concerned, even. She’d tried loosely following this epidemic since it started, but this was the first time that she’d ever heard of its spread to a continent outside of her own. Scala, still without a complete understanding of the true seriousness of Taint’s impact on the world, or the implications of its spread to foreign lands, stretched her arms behind her head like she was only half paying attention.

Java had a number of questions now.

“Where? How did this happen?”

“Signs have started popping up in the Air Continent, but we’re still not entirely sure if it really is a Taint outbreak. This information is still confidential, which is why I waited for _both_ of you to arrive here before sharing the details.”

Java glanced over at Scala, thinking about how she probably _wouldn’t_ have been able to keep her mouth shut in the halls of the headquarters if she had been told about this overseas outbreak. Good call on Flora’s part. She certainly didn’t reach the title of the Grand Mistress on combat power alone.

“For now,” Flora continued, “all suspected cases of Taint in the Air Continent have been reported by fellow Exploration Team members around one dungeon: Buried Relic. Fortunately, it’s decently far away from any of the region’s major towns, so civilians haven’t yet had any encounters with tainted Pokémon…so we suspect.”

“So, what, are we going there?” Scala asked.

“Yes – I’d like you girls to go to Buried Relic, in search of the Pokémon that may be infecting others and spreading Taint in the area. Based on Exploration Team findings here in the Mist Continent, I believe there must be some Pokémon with an advance case somewhere in the area. If you can quarantine them, cases should start to go down and we might be able to avoid the situation from worsening. Better yet – if you can bring an advance case back to headquarters, having them here for study might help us with in the effort to find a cure.”

Now that a clear mission directive was on the table, Scala burst with enthusiasm. Finally – she had a goal to direct her bottomless energy towards.

“Don’t worry, ma’am! I’ll drag ‘em all the way across the ocean for you!”

Java rolled her eyes, but also cracked a smile. Scala was simpleminded in her pursuit of a mission, but that earnest quality of hers was what endeared Java to her partner.

“We’ll do our best to bring them in, Grand Mistress,” Java seconded.

“Thank you. Good luck, girls; the health of an entire landmass may rest on your shoulder, but your health is just as important. Take these with you.”

Flora handed Java a pack full of condoms, all of various sizes, so that any encounters with infected males didn’t end with her two prodigy explorers getting infected themselves. Taint was, in essence, an STD that could be guarded against just like any other.

“I believe in you,” she said in closing. “Stay safe.”


	2. Air Continent

Hours later, cutting through the blue sea at jet speeds on Scala’s back, Java carefully inspected the horizon. After a long, long trip of nothing but flat sky against the flat ocean, a little sliver of brown earth finally came into view. The polteageist tipped the black, plastic, sombreo-like coffee cup lid that she wore up from her eyes so that she could get a second look – to be absolutely sure that she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. Sure enough, it seemed like they’d finally arrived.

“Scala, there’s land right up ahead!”

“Sweet – that means we’re pretty much at the entrance to Buried Relic, right?”

“So long as you didn’t drift us off-course.”

“Oh, you _wish_ you could pin that kinda bonehead mistake on me. Just don’t forget who has to ferry your ass back home after we’re done here – I may just forget about you. I’m pretty stupid, apparently.”

They both laughed at the other, in their own way. The banter never stopped.

“Intel told us that the entrance should look something like a big, carved, grey-stone archway,” Java redirected, shifting the focus back to work.

For as much as they liked pulling the other’s chain, she and her partner were still professionals – maybe even some of the best. When they were out on a job, they did it right. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have had the kind of reputation that to inspire Flora’s confidence that they could handle this job on their own. Nobody did it like Team Wired.

Java continued:

“We’ll know that we’re in the right spot as soon as we get to shore. Maybe a mile of walking from the coast, and Buried Relic should be waiting for us.”

With all the hours they’d already spent at sea, the remaining distance to the Air Continent went by like a flash. Once Scala could put her feet down on the sand, Java floated right off her broad, muscular shoulders for a cursory look around the beach. Beautiful sands, though no signs of vacationers. A little further up the tide’s highest point, where vegetation started to lead into a forest untouched by any modern settlements, rectangular stones and eroded debris of similar origin dotted the land. They looked out of place on the beach, but not too out of place for somewhere with some long-forgotten, ruinous dungeon nearby. These weird rocks were exactly the kind of thing that Air Continent experts over at the Exploration Team headquarters had told Java to look out for. In her mind, it was all but confirmed that Scala had been spot on in her navigation.

“Looks like we made it, Scala.” Java shouted back as her partner was just emerging from the water, clothes absolutely soaked, skin glistening in the bright sun overhead. “Lets get moving in this direction – I can feel the ruins up ahead.”

“You ghost types always creep me out with your sixth-sense for ruins and shit…And I can’t even catch a second to do some stretching?”

“You should know better than I do that stretching comes _after_ the workout. You heard Flora back at HQ, right? You gotta be on your toes for feral Pokémon. This Taint isn’t a fucking joke, Scala.”

“Alright, alright.”

With their eyes and ears wide open, cautiously making their way through this strange and unfamiliar place towards a place even more strange, unfamiliar and dangerous, Team Wired waded through thick underbrush and long vines. For a place that they’d been warned was the epicenter of a Taint outbreak, things were remarkably – if not suspiciously – calm. For an entire mile, neither of them saw or even sensed the presence of another Pokémon, infected or otherwise. No bug types hiding in the grass, no plants waiting in ambush…Just a whole lot of nothing. Java stayed vigilant, calm as ever, but Scala was only put further on edge by the lack of conflict. After all the hyping up Flora did for the virus, talking about how it apparently make its hosts more violent, she’d been expecting a fight the whole swim there. Once the two of them reached a clearing deep within the forest, the feeling in the air changed again from suspiciously silent to deeply foreboding.

“There it is,” Java noted. “Buried Ruin.”

Just like intel told them to look out for – big, carved stone. The mouth of Buried Relic was like a gateway etched into the face of a giant boulder. Crumbling stairs beckoned her and Scala deeper inside – towards the bottom floors of the dungeon, and whatever sinister secrets lie buried at the end. Some Pokémon even told tales of legendary golems that slept in secret around these parts, sealed off from the world for ages. The Exploration Team wasn’t out to the Air Continent that day to uncover ancient history, though; they were there to stop an outbreak. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, a long and narrow hallway stretched out before them. No strangers to this sort of place, Team Wired set off to explore the maze-like mystery dungeon that apparently hid the Air Continent’s patient-zero.

Before too long, multiple minutes into their exploration of this unnaturally quiet place, they heard their first signs of life.

“H-Hello? Is someone there?”

It was a voice that didn’t belong to Java or Scala. It was faint – incredibly quiet, and trembling with frailty. The two explorers stopped in their tracks, looking at each other. They exchanged knowing nods – they both knew to stay as silent as possible until they heard it again, listening closely so that they could hear which direction it was came from.

“Please…Help.” It was that same voice again, struggling to speak, and quieter than a whisper. “He left, but he’ll probably…p-probably be back soon…”

Scala turned around on the spot, reorienting herself to face the muffled whispers of distress only to find herself staring at a wall of bricks.

“What the fuck?” She questioned in frustration. “There’s nobody behind me.”

A lightbulb lit up above Java’s head.

“Maybe nobody behind _you_ , but what about behind that wall?”

Using her incorporeal body, Java took the initiative to phase through the solid stone so that she could see who or what might lay on the other side. Confirming her suspicions, one foot of granite beyond Scala’s vision, was a small hollow room. In that room: a nude, petite sneasel lay sprawled out on the floor, bruised lightly and showing clear signs of exhaustion.

“Scala,” Java called back, her head sticking out one end of the wall and her butt sticking out of the other, “someone’s hurt here.”

“Shit,” she could hear Scala’s muffled voice from the other side now. “You stay with them – I’ll try to find a way over there to meet back up.”

“Wait – Scala!” Java pulled her entire body back out to the side of the wall Scala was on. “What if you get lost again, or something happens to you while we’re split up?”

“Come on, girl; I can handle myself. You hear how goddamn quiet it is around here anyway? I doubt I’ll be running into trouble, you know.”

Before Java could even object, Scala started sprinting as fast as her toned legs could carry her down to the dark and hereto unexplored hallways of the dungeon. She was right – there weren’t any signs of hostile or infected Pokémon yet, but something about this place really rubbed the polteageist the wrong way. Her partner was strong, though. She was dependable. If Java trusted anyone to look after themselves in a place like this, that person would be Scala. Unfortunately, Java couldn’t say the same for the injured sneasel laying on the floor of that room just beyond the wall. Although she was part of an Exploration Team – not a Rescue Team – she couldn’t in good conscious just ignore a Pokémon in need.

Phasing back through the wall and approaching the wearied sneasel, Java spoke clearly but softly so that she would be understood but not misjudged as an enemy.

“Hey, are you okay? Who did this to you?”

Upon closer inspection, this sneasel had some light scratching around her back and small, circular bruises around her neck and breasts. With what little power she had left, she guarded her femininity with the palm of one hand while trying to prop herself up out of the dirt with her other. A few patches of pale-brown mud painted the rustled, black fur of her face, but for all the damage she seemed to have been put through her eyes were remarkably dry of tears. She was a strong woman to have endured whatever forces left her laying here and maintain her composure, Java assumed.

“Oh, t-thank goodness…” Now that Java was here, the sneasel spoke in a trembling whisper. She needn’t expend energy amplifying her voice any longer. “My f-fr…friend down there needs you.”

“I’ll help you and your friend, just stick with me. Help me so I can help you – what Pokémon did this to you?”

“Help…my friend. There…” She pointed down a dark flight of stairs in the corner of the room, deeper into the mystery dungeon.

The sneasel either didn’t hear Java’s question, or she was obstinate about getting her “ _friend_ ” help before anything else. Thinking about the situation that the she must have gone through, Java couldn’t feel too frustrated. It was normal, she thought, for a victim like her to have a few marbles loose. Maybe after reuniting her with her friend, the sneasel would be a little less agitated and Java could get to finding and neutralizing the mystery assailant.

Java lowered her ghostly hand, offering it to the sneasel so that she could pick herself up and lead them back down to another potential victim. Once she was on her feet, she shuffled slowly over to the stairs. Her thighs kept glued together, and even though Java floated behind her, the sneasel seemed more than reluctant to pry her palm away from her womanhood. Even with her perky butt in full view of her savior and follower, the sneasel seemed to Java to be oddly concerned with her frontal modesty. Of course, Java tried her best after the initial once-over not to ogle her guide’s body. That would have been rude. Java, drifting at a slow and leisurely pace over to wherever sneasel was bringing her, looked up awkwardly at the ceiling. Occasionally, Java would check behind her back; she wanted to keep an eye out for Scala, who she thought should have been following closely behind.

Onward they trekked – deeper into Buried Relic, and still without any incidents or run-ins with hostile Pokémon. The only new and unusual thing Java noted on their walk was the emergence of a sweet, alluring smell in the air. She thought it odd for an eons-old cave to smell that way, but she had no complaints; things definitely smelled a lot better than she expected of such a place. As the sneasel brought the two of them past an entire silent floor, the gears in Java’s head started to turn. Every single room and hallway they passed by void of conflict made her suspicions grow. Not only was the lack of dungeon-dwellers unusual, Java heard no signs of Scala bringing up the rear either. Scala’s sense of direction was always bad, but it was strange to Java that her partner could be running full-speed ahead and still not have caught up by now.

Compounding Java’s budding wariness, she hadn’t heard a word from the sneasel since they’d started leading her further into Buried Relic, nor had they turned around to even check that the ghost-type was still following. After all, Java didn’t have any footsteps. The more she thought about it, the weirder this whole side-mission seemed. In her heightening sense of awareness, she even noticed a weird sound coming from the sneasel – separate from the sharp-clawed Pokémon’s own footsteps. She had tried to avoid looking at them, to protect their nude privacy, but the sound drew her eyes down to the sneasel’s feet. There, Java’s eyes widened at the sight that she’d so ignorantly been unaware of this entire time.

Underneath the sneasel, a wet and glistening puddle of moisture grew. From the box she’d been “hiding” behind her hands, a steady stream of vaginal fluid trailed down the curves of her inner-thighs and dripped onto the grey stone floor. The puddle dyed the stone a darker grey, reflecting what little light shone in the hallway. Java looked back again, paying closer attention to the ground this time. Just like the floor underneath the sneasel, a waving snail-trail of love juices lead as far back as Java’s eyes could see. Her heart sank. All the weird little things about this chance encounter with a wounded stranger were finally starting to paint a complete picture. The sneasel’s labored breathing, her lack of clothing, the mouth-size pattern of bruising across her chest, the light scratching of nails on her back, the withholding of information about whatever had done those things to her, and the river of girlcum that wafted an alluring pheromone into the air of the entirety of Buried Relic…

The sneasel was infected with Taint.

Acting as quickly as she could, Java tried retreating back away from the sneasel before they had realized she was finally wise to the game. Unfortunately for the polteageist, she couldn’t act quick enough. Not a yard into her back dash, Java felt her back crash into another light and high-off-the-ground body. As she turned her head to see who she’d crashed into – hoping desperately that Scala had finally arrived – large, purple hands wrapped around her shoulders. Another Pokémon had finally revealed themselves: a haunter that had nearly two feet of height over Java. They had phased through a wall, finally ready to spring the trap that Java had so foolishly stumbled into.

“ _G-gah!_ ” Java choked out as she felt the thumbs of this enormous haunter press lightly around her neck. After a few moments of struggling, she realized that the spirit’s grip wasn’t getting any tighter. Instead of attacking her, the haunter seemed for whatever reason to be more interested in pushing Java further forward – deeper into Buried Relic, and toward the large room that was starting to come into sight at the end of the hallway.

“ _Alright, bitch_ ,” the big-bellied, thick-set haunter whispered into Java’s ear. “ _Our ‘_ friend’ _is just a little further ahead. He’s been waiting for someone new to play with for a loooooong time.”_

The sneasel ahead of the two ghosts didn’t seem to react at all to Java’s grunts or the haunter’s whispers. Without looking back, she squirmed forward, dripping even more of her juices onto the floor and wiggling her butt in giddy anticipation of what seemed to be their final destination – the place where this “ _friend_ ” has been waiting all along.

Finally passing through the end of the hallway and into the room – a room much larger and better illuminated than any that she’d seen in this dungeon so far – a highly-muscled machamp stood over the limp, shaking bodies of tens of female Pokemon. Wide-hipped medicham, sharp-featured and bimbo-like mawile, enormous-breasted mahukita women lay with bellies as large as their heads, white, creamy fluids glorping out from between their legs slowly, like the steady flow of molasses out of a pipe. With two of his four strong, meaty hands wrapped around the waist of a quivering, tail-wagging growlithe girl, jostling her back and forth in front of his naked crotch like she was as light as a paper flier, the machamp turned his head to see sneasel, haunter, and their new catch walk into his musk-filled dungeon of Taint-spreading sex.

“Oh – Atlas, darling! I brought her – I brought her! P-please…Reward me!”

As soon as the machamp’s eyes met the sneasel’s, she bound toward him with a speed and exuberance starkly different from the weak front she’d put up to lure Java in. Her lithe body zipped from one end of the den to another, over a wall-to-wall crimson-red rug that was no doubt brought in to make the place look more homely and less like the literal dungeon that it was.

“Great – you’re back!” the machamp she called _Atlas_ replied. He had a deep tone of voice: masculine and authoritative, yet not all too bright. “Growlithe pussy isn’t as hot as I thought it’d be…”

The sneasel lept multiple feet into their air, clearing a tattered old mattress, the bodies of tens of well-fucked Poké-gals, and a pile of berries that the four-armed fighting type had no doubt stockpiled to fuel his infectious orgy. As the lust-raddled sneasel fell from the apex of her jump, accelerating recklessly toward the object of her rabid affection, Atlas cast the growlithe off his cock in the same careless manner one throws a condom into a garbage can. The bitch yelped and howled, clearly cast away before her sexual appetite had been sated.

“ _N-noooooo~_ ” she protested. “ _You haven’t even cum in me yet…_ ”

Atlas didn’t care. He clearly had little interest in serving others. His sexual whims were as ephemeral as a gust of wind; however, just like the wind, it was always present in one form or another. That much was clear to Java as she stared at his erection for the brief few moments that it was between growlithe pussy and sneasel pussy. It was clear to Java that this man was the one she’d been sent on a mission to find and neutralize, but his case of Taint was far, far worse than she could have ever imagined possible.

Although Java had never laid with a machamp, much less one as enormous as him, there wasn’t any way that the absolute monster cock between his legs was even close to an “average” size for his species. Covered in more veins than his rippling biceps, nearly as long his torso, and almost as thick as his thigh, a trouser snake like that could probably put a wailord to shame. It curved a bit to the left, which no doubt made it so that he rubbed along one wall while thrusting into his partners. The glans of his penis was chubby looking, drooling precum as it waited to be buried again in another Pokémon’s womb. The balls that hung underneath him were no less impressive: Multi-pound medicine balls that looked as though they could contain gallons of sperm and Taint-spreading virus. They had only been partially obscured by the dangling legs of his disposable growlithe friend, but now that she was whining on the floor Java could see them in all their enormity. They were so massive and heavy that they nearly touched the floor, stretching the skin of his scrotum such that it looked like two watermelons stuffed into a thin and flimsy plastic bag.

Before Java was done gathering visual information on just how deeply this machamp had been infected and changed by the Taint, his sneasel friend came down from the air with her ankles above her head and was skewered on his pole. Her case of Taint must have already been advanced at this point too, as her vagina had little difficulty taking Atlas’s mammoth dick all the way to the point that it formed a bulge in her stomach that could strike her in the chin. She screamed out in ecstasy while Atlas smiled widely, clearly deriving some sense of satisfaction from the lurid howlings of his partner.

“ _YEHSSSSSSSS!_ ” The sneasel’s screaming was loud enough to wake the dead. _“FUCK ME – GRAB MY SHOULDERS AND JOSTLE ME UP AND DOWN YOUR COCK UNTIL I’M LIMP!_ ” Her orders were spoken quickly, like every second she wasn’t being used like a fuckdoll was equivalent to torture. For all that Java could tell, sex was the only thing that this cum-addled bitch lived for anymore.

“Only ‘cuz you brought me this fine new plaything,” Atlas said, savoring the words as he stared not at the sneasel riding upon his gut-busting cock but at the coffee-cup polteageist floating by his mattress. “I’ve never seen a Pokémon like this before…”

While staring unwaveringly at Java, Atlas grabbed onto the sneasel’s shoulders with two of his hands, and onto her waist with the two others. He used one set to keep her body stable on his shaft, and the other to maximize the force he could push her down with. He licked his lips, fucking Java with his eyes while he fucked the gleefully stretched-out sneasel with his cock. His arms started pumping the sneasel up and down his erection slowly. The juices from her supernaturally wet honeypot worked their way over his already sopping-wet, steel-hard rod. Lubrication was no problem for either of them – Atlas simply liked to take his time at first, at least after a forceful and sudden insertion. The way a women squirmed on his cock tickled a desire deep inside him, and they only had time to squirm when he went slow. Once he started putting all his muscle into things, the girls all turned to jelly on his pale-blue impaler.

“Like what you see?” The haunter-gal whispered into Java’s ear from behind. She still had the polteageist in her grasp, and she wasn’t going to let go until Java didn’t _want_ to go. “He sure looks to like what _he_ sees, you exotic little thing.”

Java was very careful not to say anything in response. The less she talked, the better her chances of gaining the upper hand once she’d finally formulated a plan to handle this mess. Saying something stupid or hasty might mean incurring this haunter’s anger, earning her an express trip to a couple hours of unconsciousness and no doubt a subsequent case of Taint. As sure as she was of her strength, the numbers were against her and she was in quite a compromising position. Java ran the numbers in her head, trying her best to calculate her best chances at stalling for long enough for Scala to arrive and back her up. To her slight annoyance, only one idea seemed even close to reasonable in this scenario…

Java would have to pacify the machamp with sex.

Flora had given her condoms for just this situation. As frightening the prospect of taking on a cock of such unreal size was, Java figured she could handle this safely. She was sexually experienced – none of her previous partners, male or female, could argue that. Atlas seemed to show enough of an interest in her that she might even be able to take control of the course of their encounter. That would certainly help her feel safer. Still, Java had her doubts about the soundness of this plan. Most of that doubt came from the scene playing out in front of her, watching the sneasel’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her mouth shaped like an “O” as she howled in ecstasy, limbs flailing like flags in the wind as her fighting-type partner stroked himself off with her cunt at a mile-a-minute pace. He seemed not even to break a sweat as his three-foot member punched sneasel-womb like a speedbag. The sneasel squirted onto his chest, which was already glistening with the moisture of many other partners’ female ejaculate. Java wondered how many orgasms the sneasel had already experienced, and how much further her body could hold out now that her brain seemed to be broken.

Not long after starting to pleasure himself with his sneasel cocksleeve, Atlas’s enormous testes started to gurgle and twitch, packing themselves full with sperm as an orgasm hurried forward. He thrusted his plaything deeper onto his enormous cock, parting her breasts and pushing his belly-stretching glans up between her eyes. The sneasel could see her womb mold like putty to the shape of her master’s dick, right in front of her, underneath her modified, elastic body. While a less tainted Pokémon might have cried out in pain, she screamed for even more. Her womb cried for his cum, secreting her slippery juices all over his shaft in an unstoppable flow. No matter the speed of his pounding, or the friction caused by their ravenous and animalistic mating, their tainted sexes would be well lubricated. Even after her consciousness faded, her body continued to drool over his cock. A puddle of his and her clear oozes formed around them, large enough to roll around in. Faster, faster, and faster still, Atlas drummed against her waiting egg-maker until…

**_GLOOOORP!_ **

In one quick pull, Atlas’s swinging balls zipped up against his body, tightening up the loose skin of his scrotum. Wrinkles of its excess clung to the bottom, sticking tightly together as his testicles flushed themselves empty into the sneasel’s cunt. In a single load, one tight, sticky, viscous orb of spunk shot up his vas deferens, through his gaping urethra, and exploded in his plaything’s pussy, bloating her gut out to such a wobbly, misshapen dome that it spread out past her torso on either side adding multiple inches to her waist-size. The sneasel squirmed – as much as her shaken body would allow – and curled up a little so that she could lay the side of her head against her cumflated belly. Just as quickly as the sperm reached the eggs in her ovaries, she fell asleep. She looked peaceful…Far more peaceful Java would have expected of one that was just jostled around like a glowstick at a rave. A look of relief washed over Atlas’s face, like he’d been relieved of a massive burden. While he smiled, looking down unimpressed by the work he’d done, his balls dropped back down to hang by the floor. Now that his debt to the sneasel was paid, he dropped her to the floor too, just the same as he cast away the growlithe.

“Now,” Atlas sighed out as he stretched his neck and rotated his arms, limbering up from the last workout of a fucking he delivered. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”

He continued looking straight at Java. In fact, he hadn’t looked away for a second since he first noticed her arrival.

“I’ve seen all your body has to offer with that _tight_ little tube-top on…Care to show me what my eyes can’t see yet?”

Java rolled her eyes. What a corny line. Despite how annoyed and disgusted she felt on the inside, she couldn’t let it show just yet. What she just saw was confirmation enough: this was obviously the guy Flora sent her after. His goliath cock; twin, heavy balls; belly-stuffing, womb-bursting multi-gallon loads. Java wished she could have done it any other way, but she had to play along. In order to save potentially an entire continent from facing another pandemic, she had to act nice. She had a plan now – she _wasn’t_ going to get infected herself.

“What,” she replied playfully, “dress not tight enough to show you all you need to see?”

Java gestured down to her chest with her chin, pointing Atlas’s attention to the white, milky lines spiraling out on her breasts from her nipples. Her areola were hiding just below a couple centimeters of cloth. Her coffee-colored skin was decorated in creamy swirls, and the ones on her breasts stood out more than any of the others.

“Think my nipples are white, too? You’d be right.”

Java threw her chest up, jiggling her head-sized tits just a bit freer from their modest confines than before. She shook her chest again, tossing her tits further up and slipping her dress further down. Once her tits popped free, exposing her milk-white, coin-sized nipples, she giggled girlishly.

“Oopsie,” she laughed.

She cringed internally.

“ _God…I feel like such a bimbo.”_

All the denigration she was putting herself through was paying off, at least. The haunter that had her hands around Java loosened her grip, backing away slowly but watching closely to see if her master’s prey was about to make any fast moves. Now, Java could move about freely again…at least within this room.

“Say, big boy,” Java whispered at Atlas, floating up slowly so as not to startle anyone. “Ever been with a polteageist?”

“Is that what you are?” Atlas wondered back.

More than eager to accept Java’s apparent advances, though not that he was too intent on getting her permission in the first place, Atlas stepped forward to meet her right in the center of the room. Together, they stood (and hovered) at the cum-stained mattress that served as the erotic altar of this sexed-up perversion of an ancient and historical ruin. Atlas didn’t say anything further. Like a drone, he held his hand out grab Java’s chest. Java couldn’t let things start off like that though. She needed to assert a dominant role here, however slight and imaginary. She knew what this simple cum-brain wanted. He wanted her, and all of the wonderfully unique features of her exotic body that could service him. Lucky for Java, she was the gatekeeper of her form’s most special and interesting sexual application.

“Uh-huh,” she clicked her tongue at him in coy disapproval. “You don’t want _these_ ,” Java corrected while pulling her breasts ever-so-slightly out of reach of the grabby machamp. “You want _this._ ”

Expanding out of her milk-splash hair, Java’s enormous white hand re-materialized. Right beside her, she curled the fingers of her giant, detached appendage into a lose fist and rocked it up and down an invisible pole.

“Don’t think any of these girls have ever been able to give you a hand job like this, hmm?”

Java’s hand looked large enough to actually wrap itself around Atlas’s tree-trunk erection. Even with four arms of his own, he couldn’t wrap any of his palms around the circumference of his stupidly large cock. While he stared at her pantomime a hand job, Atlas imagined himself laying with his back on the ground. He could give his own arms a rest for once – experience the first orgasm in weeks that he didn’t have to cramp a tricep to achieve by shaking his partner up and down. Letting someone take the reins for a change? That sounded nice. Really, really nice.

“I’m gonna like you, babe.” Atlas mused.

“Just lay down and let me take over for a while…Let your big, strong arms rest.”

Content to perform the submissive role in this way, if only for just a while, Atlas played along. He thought it was cute that she felt like she was the one in control. Java, ecstatic that her plan was going well so far but less than plussed that now she had to follow through, reached into the waist of her dress to pull out one of the condoms she’d brought along. They were a little small, but they’d have to do. When Atlas caught a glimpse at them, he chuckled in disbelief.

“You really gonna bother with those?”

Java swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to bury the doubts that were beginning to surface in her mind. That machamp seemed awfully nonchalant about her pulling out the condom.

“W-well,” she stammered nervously, “bet it’s been a while since you’ve blown a load into one of these, huh?”

“Hmm…” Atlas shrugged. “ _They’re_ a lot more fun,” he said as he gestured over to all his previous partners, laying on their backs with cumflated bellies at least the sizes of watermelons.

At first, the sight was somewhat terrifying to Java. Seeing so many women sprawled out with lose muscles, enormous bellies and heaving, labored breathing was otherworldly; not anything that she’d ever thought could exist outside the wildest dreams of the most depraved individuals. None of the stories she read about Taint – hell, none of the photographs she’d seen in newspapers of the Mist Continent’s worst cases – looked as bad as this. However, what scared her the most was how the entire scene seemed less and less scary as she took it all in. Seeing it all in front of her, and staring more at Atlas’s enormous cock as she prepared to slide a condom onto it, none of it seemed quite as startling as it did a couple minutes ago.

Java internally questioned whether or not Taint was spreadable through the air. What was with her right now?

“ _Come on Java_ ,” the polteageist thought to herself. “ _You can do this…Just like the literature says: don’t get any on you, and you can’t get infected._ ”

She sized up the giant pole in front of her, floating to its left and its right side while she thought up a plan of action for how she was going to safely get this condom on. Atlas’s yard-long, thigh-wide cock was throbbing and slimed up with that same concoction of precum and girl-goo that lubed up his short but violent jerk-off session into that poor little sneasel. Java’s large and ghostly hand gently placed the head of her largest condom in place on top of Atlas’s sticky, pink glans. Even though she used the largest one that Flora packed her, it still looked stupidly small atop Atlas’s warped member: like a yarmulke on a fire hydrant. Java looked up in mixed worry and amazement at Atlas. He looked down at her with the same smug look he had on when he first saw her pull those condoms out of her dress. It was a look that said “ _told you it wouldn’t fit._ ”

Too stubborn to give up now, and too deep into the act to turn tail and hope she ran into Scala, Java pressed on. Even though it might not last, she had to get the condom all the way on. She couldn’t risk getting any cum on her, lest she fall to infection as well.

Slowly, Java used her giant hand to work the condom down Atlas’s shaft. Her ghastly appendage was as warm and inviting as steam rising from a piping-hot coffee. As she unrolled more and more of the latex sleeve, more and more of her palm slid over her sitting partner’s cock. She could feel him twitching as her hand reached the midpoint of his shaft – where the condom ran out of length and could roll down no further. Java was sure condoms were _supposed_ to roll down a lot further than just half-way down a cock, though there wasn’t much she could do about it with this beastly tower of an erection and its size that defied both imagination and containment. While the reservoir tip of the condom already started to bloat with precum, the slimy bottom-half of his cock pulsated with such force that Java began to worry Atlas might snap the condom in two if he so much as flexed his kegels.

Already, Java’s hand was covered in Atlas’s viscous, foamed-up fluids. Even as she smeared it onto the surface of the condom, lubricating it for a smoother hand job, she didn’t feel as though any of it was coming off her palm. Something about its thickness and made it feel like it was glued to her – like it’d _never_ come off. She shuddered to think about what it must feel like inside the wombs of all those tainted souls sprawled out on the floor. Fortunately for Java, the fact that her hand was a ghostly projection meant it had no biological link to her body. As weird as it felt to have all that precum between her fingers, that act didn’t expose her to infection.

Java kept stroking, wringing the precum out of the machamp’s erection by pushing the base of her thumb into his cumvein as she traveled up its length. Time started to slip away for the two of them. Java’s vision blurred around the cock she serviced, and Atlas threw his head back onto the mattress as he relished his new partner’s dexterity and warmth. She was right, he thought: this really was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The rhythm of her handjob was perfect. He could feel an orgasm coming quickly. The swelling of his balls was joined by noise, like an upset stomach rumbling. In her hazy periphery, Java could see the enormous orbs start to twitch and flex. The outflow of precum bloated the reservoir tip out more and more, past any volume it could reasonably be expected to stretch to accommodate, all coaxed out expertly by Java’s hand. By the time it had been filled with enough cum to fill a few gallon jugs, the condom as a whole started traveling up Atlas’s cock.

Before the first hint of white even stained its syrupy contents, the condom hung precariously from the flared tip of Atlas’s meat – the elastic cocksleeve hung heavily down towards the ground, inches away from Java’s face. She felt the urge to float back a bit, but she could tell that her target was almost there. Atlas was on the edge. She could feel every jerk and flutter of his sensitive rod. If she could just finish the job, she thought – if she could make him cum – then she might have a chance at striking back while he was disoriented in the afterglow. After the body-bag sized condom this guy just filled up? There’s no way he’d be up for anything but a nap after this top-tier hand job she just showed him.

Atlas gripped the sides of the mattress as he reached his breaking point. He crushed the inner springs, nearly even tearing into the foam with his thumbs. As his vice-like fingers clenched the mattress beneath him, his gritted teeth started to open. He let out wails of pleasure, bucking his hips up and down to thrust into the polteageist’s fist. He was about to cum. His body shook, making the enormously overfilled condom wiggle from side to side. The jerking motion was almost enough to shake it off his tip. Little droplets of pre shook off his exposed shaft, dribbling all over the floor, and a couple on Java. When she felt the cool touch of a droplet of liquid touch her bare skin, her heart sank. She thrust down to the bottom of his shaft one more time and froze in panic, though not before delivering that final stroke Atlas needed to climb over the edge. As the disruption of Java’s focus caused her ghostly hand to dematerialize, Atlas’s balls lurched up to his pelvic floor again.

Even more forcefully than before, the writhing machamp’s cock erupted with more seed than the condom could ever hope to handle. As a rope the diameter of Java’s neck rockets out of Atlas’s gaping glans, it snagged the last few centimeters of taut, straining latex and flings the condom forward. While Atlas’s tool stood tall, aimed three feet into the sky and shooting out loads that spatter the ceiling, Java quaked in horror as she observed his cast-off condom falling down to her position by the ground. It seemed to fall in slow motion as all of the stupid mistakes she’d made on this trip flashed in her memory. She shouldn’t have let Scala run off on her own. She should have realized she was walking into a trap. She should have retreated before now.

Before she could move past her regrets and even think to dive out of the way, the condom full of her target’s infectious load struck her body and leaked Taint-spreading precum all over her face, legs and torso. Within mere moments, the tiny speckles of seminal fluid she felt on her shoulders were swept away as she was covered head-to-toe in the only thing she truly needed to avoid on this mission. Atlas’s goop oozed through her dress, flowing into the valley between her thighs and coating her lips.

If she wasn’t already infected before, this had surely gotten her.

Still in shock, Java laid motionless on the ground for a while. She mirrored Atlas in a way; however, while he was still evacuating his balls of pheromone and virus-laden cum, that same fluid seemed to creep into the empty tunnel of Java’s cunt as she lay in it. Slowly, as the precum around her continued to stain white from the fertilizing rain falling down on her from the sticky ceiling, Java felt her body begin to change. A normal case of Taint wouldn’t have forced such a metamorphosis onto a Pokémon, at least not as quickly as it seemed to happen to Java. True to her suspicions, Atlas must have been an incredibly special case. Something about his sexual fluids accelerated the rate of her infection and, subsequently, the rate of change occurring to her body.

While the lips of her box were shut closed before, the corruption of Java’s body imbued them with a hunger for seed that only another infected could hope to satisfy. They started to dilate, opening slightly to let her mate’s seed drain inside. As the sperm found their way into the pink walls of her aching cunt, little jolts of electricity ran up Java’s spine. Hypersensitive to the touch of even the tiniest of white-tailed swimmers, Java could feel them all as they bumped against her walls. Her cervix dilated in turn, clearing a path to her womb. Though all of this was happening out of Java’s sight – and at a microscopic scale, no less – it was clear as day in her mind’s eye. Behind the blank stare she directed at the ceiling, the theatre of her imagination played out the outcome of her fertilization, pregnancy, laying those cute Pokémon eggs, and the repetition of the cycle.

Clearly, the infection was also starting to affect Java’s mind. As her temperature flared up – her metabolism working overtime as the Taint changed her body bit by bit into a malleable fuckdoll – her brain chemistry seemed to be changing too. Java’s consciences, at least what parts of it left that could still think rationally, tried to fight off the onset of her depraved sexual fantasies. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake them off. As she rubbed her thighs together, she only imagined doing more and more dangerous things: things that would only put her deeper down the hole of disease. She was already fucked – so why not give in all the way? As the discarded condom finally fully emptied itself, Java shifted her eyes just a bit to get a better view of the only cock in the room.

Atlas’s orgasm had finally ceased; though, despite the best wishes of “healthy” Java, his erection hadn’t waned a single bit. Maybe she’d missed whatever refractory period he might have had while she was consumed with her fantasy. Whatever the case, “sick” Java couldn’t have been happier.

Exhaling deeply, Atlas lifted his neck and torso so that he could get a good view of what had become of his favorite new “handmaid.” When he saw that she was still squirming on the floor, shaking her hips as his overflow worked its way down to her fallopian tubes, he grinned. His smugness was palpable.

“Gotta give you credit, babe,” he complimented sincerely. “You were right – that really _was_ a great hand job.”

Java stared up at him as he spoke, still half in a daze as she tried focusing her eyes to dispel the overwhelming amount of blur obscuring her vision. Did Taint fuck with your eyes too, she wondered?

“Aaw…Poor thing. Could you maybe be…”

Atlas pushed down on the shaft of his cock, lowering its glans to be within just inches of Java’s gasping mouth.

“ _Craving_ something now?”

“ _Guh…!_ ” Java felt her body lurch forward. Just at having Atlas’s beautiful, monstrous rod lowered within kissing distance, something within her forced her to rise from her exhausted lounging position and into a full sit-up. It took all the power inside her to keep her back still – to stop herself from glomping onto Atlas’s erection like a fish hopping onto a baited line.

“Come _onnnnn_ , babe.” Atlas waved his shaft in front of her, wafting the light musk and overpowering aroma of sex into her nostrils. “Just give in. Doesn’t it feel _great_?

“ _W-what?_ ” Java grunted, still trying desperately to suppress her urges. Every moment that passed only made that suppression more difficult – more of a tax on her body and mind.

“Taint!” he replied. “It feels fucking _great_ to be infected, right? Don’t you want to go again? To _really_ do it this time? To share it with _everyone_?”

As much as a part of Java hated to admit it, the muscle-headed himbo was right. The longer Java lay there as the Taint spread through her body, the more a swelling tide of euphoria took hold over her. Like a wave, it washed away all of the worries and concerns Java had about infection or her mission. As the seconds marched on and her case advanced, she only grew happier. The giddy attitude of that sneasel was starting to make sense now. Java could almost see herself acting the exact same way now – hopping into Atlas’s arms and begging to be used like a cheap onahole. All the fears she had over that were gone now. Intuitively, she knew her body could handle it. Her tainted box and tainted mind both seemed in agreement on that.

One other thing her box was telling her was that it _needed_ to be filled. At this stage in her infection, the leftover drippings of last moment’s orgasm didn’t cut it any more. The soothing flame inside Java’s cunt quickly grew into an aching inferno. Java didn’t just feel capable of taking Atlas now – she felt pained for every moment she had to go without him. Her new, hyperactive sexual appetite wept for cock, and Atlas’s was – at least to her knowledge – the only one for miles around.

“ _P-please…_ ” She whispered, feeling too weak to speak up normally.

“Please what?” Atlas questioned. He was clearly enjoying Java’s new attitude.

“ _Please…”_ she said more clearly this time.

Atlas got up close to her, leaning into her ear to say:

“Tell me _exactly_ what you want, or I go have fun with someone else.”

The fear of missing out was the last thing Java needed to push the last shred of hesitation out of her mind.

“Fuck me like you fucked them!” She shouted so that everyone could year.

As soon as the words left her lips, Java felt two big, strong hands wrap around her waist and lift her up into the air like she weighed less than a balloon.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

Suddenly, Java could feel the warm, slimy surface of Atlas’s perpetually lubricated poll smack against her back. His glans slapped between her shoulder blades, showing her that if he really wanted to, Atlas could shove his cock almost all the way up to her neck. Better yet, Java noticed as she glanced down towards his rippling abs, she wasn’t even sitting against his pubic mound yet. There were plenty of inches to plug her up with. With a quivering smile and reddened face, Java braced herself to take in all of the cock that her brutish partner could deliver.

Utilizing his second set of arms, Atlas curled his fingers around his fucktoy’s thighs. While the hands he had planted on Java’s waist were meant to hold her up, his grip on her legs was for holding her open. Atlas’s torso-wide erection – wide as Java’s torso, at least – needed a clear path of entry. Java’s body was nice and limber, so assuming a split was simple and painless. It seemed like all the muscles in her body were made just a little easier to stretch. Being tainted opened up a lot more options for adventurous and acrobatic positions, though the way Atlas had in mind for breeding her was hardly “adventurous.” Java didn’t think it to be a problem though; she was more than happy with being jerked around on his cock like so many others had been before. As her quivering lips reached the puffy, leaking gate of Atlas’s urethra, another wave of euphoria washed over her. Just the lightest of touches, and the excitement it brought made her heart feel as though it could burst from her chest.

“Put it in!” Java pleaded. “ _Pleeeeease!_ ”

As the machamp’s glans started to part the entrance to Java’s box, Java continued to plead. Atlas wanted to savor the entry. Just as Java’s hand was, her body was warm like a sauna. This was exactly what he hoped growlite women would be like. To unexpectedly find this experience with a ghost type was just another incredible and unexpected perk of finding this wonderful polteageist. Atlas enjoyed the sensation of his dick getting swallowed up by Java’s steamy cunt centimeter by centimeter; she, however, had her own desire that needed to be met.

Taking her burly partner by surprise, Java summoned her hand up above her own head. If Atlas wasn’t going to run her through like the battering ram she wished to have crammed in her pussy, then she’d push herself down! With all of the speed she could send her giant palm flying, Java struck her own shoulders to knock her body all the way down onto Atlas’s hips. Fully hilted on his tower of cock, Java threw back her head and wailed in pleasure.

“ _OooooooOOOOuuuuugh!_ ”

That hit her exactly how she had hoped. All at once, Atlas’s dick plunged past her cervix and filled her womb hundreds of times past capacity. No matter how full she was stuffed, it wasn’t an issue. Her tainted anatomy could stretch as long and wide as it needed to. _She_ was the condom now, and she fit magnitudes better than the baby-sized sleeves she brought along with her. Also unlike those latex condoms, Java was capable of fully appreciating the gift inside of her. Her juices dribbled and squirted over Atlas’s chest and the floor below. Her toes curled as she came to an orgasm more intense and longer-lasting than any she’d ever experienced. It just wouldn’t stop. She went mad as the pleasure centers of her brain were jammed – locked into what it seemed like might become permanent vibrations of pleasure. Every second felt like minutes, and Java mused that she could squirm and cum on this heavenly rod for hours.

Atlas was angered by this insolent show of disrespect. She’d been begging _him_ this whole time. _He_ was the one with the power here. She needed _him_ , but _he_ had countless other bitches napping within eyeshot that would grovel under him just to lick the sweat off of his massive, melon-sized balls. For her to ruin his fun and rush things along by pushing _herself_ down his dick? He’d show her. Atlas doubled the strength of his grip on her waist to keep her from moving about and, how that he was already securely inserted into her, pulled his other hands up to her shoulder to steady her body for the coming punishment. Once he was through with her, she’d be in tears every moment she was without his cock. What better opportunity was there, Atlas thought, to truly test the limits of his output into one greedy cow in need of punishment?

Just like he treated all the girls before her, Atlas started violently pumping Java up and down his shaft. If left to go on he could have pumped her cunt over a hundred times a minute, but Atlas didn’t need that must stimulation to get to an orgasm. Java was so warm, her pussy so perfectly suited to his cock, that he started to feel a swelling in his balls well before a minute’s time. His cock twitched the same way it always did before an orgasm. Java, stuck in her own little world and obsessed only with her own pleasure, failed to notice the telltale signs. When the enormous bulge sticking up from her belly started to round out with cum, it took her from her state of unimaginable bliss to a grand and even less conceivable plateau far, far above. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her tongue lolled out of her mouth, and her legs went limp.

As the entire dungeon floor filled with the sounds of Java’s rapidly expanding belly – _SPLUUURT_ , _GLOOOOOP_ , and _BLOOOOOORP_ – so too did the room begin to fill with her massive, load-bearing cum-tummy. Quicker than he’d filled the sneasel before, Atlas evacuated his balls into Java’s womb. The heat from her cunt spurred his largest orgasm yet. As gallon upon gallon of seed emptied into Java, her gut expanded to contain it. She looked 9 months pregnant within mere moments. As Atlas’s cock continued expelling fat ropes, they splashed against the walls of Java’s sex and flooded into her ovaries. A few moments more, and Java looked like she could be hiding a snorlax in her stomach. As she got fuller and heavier, Atlas was eventually forced to set her down on the mattress. She laid with her back against the floor, her stomach wobbling in the air. It was already so full and squishy, but Atlas could keep going. He could feel his sack beginning to fill up again, and so he pumped into her already overfilled cunt with the exact same vigor he started with earlier. Java hasn’t cried for mercy yet, so Atlas still had punishment to dole out.

Hugging her boulder-sized, cumflated stomach, Atlas thrust in more. Faster and faster, jiggling her distended gut and poking around all sides of her blown-out womb. Before too long, he came to another orgasm, pumping her with bathtubs full of cum and expanding her out even further. When Java had finally wrestled control of her mind back from the bottomless swamp of her orgasms, she didn’t beg for him to stop. All she begged for was “ _More! More! Moooooore!_ ”

Finally, guided by the impossible-to-miss sounds of Java and Atlas’s wicked breeding session, Scala came running through the dark hallway and into Atlas’s Taint-spreading hideout. Much too late to prevent Java from falling to her infection, she looked on in shock at her exploration buddy’s impossibly bloated form. Java noticed her wonderful friend reach their mating den and looked up from the floor with earnest and excited eyes.

“Scala!” Java exclaimed. “Join in – you’ll fucking love it!”


End file.
